Just a Used Sweater
by Whatsername Stardust
Summary: Hermione wants only one thing for Christmas: One of Mrs. Weasley's infamous sweaters. But not exactly as you would expect. Harry/Hermione fluffy goodness


_**Fluff fluff fluff lots of fluff. That's all this is. **_

_**Read and review, darlings. **_

Hermione sat on the common room couch on Christmas morning, curled up in front of the fire, nose in a book. It was early. Ridiculously so really. She hadn't been able to fall back asleep. She was so conflicted. On one hand there was Ron. Goofy, slightly dense, good looking, funny Ron. Then there was Harry. Funny, gorgeous, brave, kind Harry. They were her two best friends in the world. And she didn't want to lose either of them. She knew Ron had feelings for her, or at least she was relatively sure. And she did like him, as more than a friend even. But then there was Harry, whom she was relatively sure she had fallen in love with, and whom she was relatively sure felt absolutely nothing towards her, other than the love an older brother has for his little sister. She didn't know how much longer she could avoid his hugs, before he suspected something was wrong. She also didn't really like not hugging him. She laid her head down on her hands and sighed. The choice seemed simple, pick the boy who liked her, and who she thought she could grow to love, and fall out of love with the boy who didn't love her back. But as logical and sensible as Hermione was, she didn't want to settle for growing to love someone eventually. Part of her was still a little girl, waiting for her Prince Charming to come sweep her off her feet, and ride her off into the sunset on his Firebolt. Sometimes her inner child really got on her nerves.

Shaking away daydreams about raven haired wizards, Hermione instead thought about the joke letters to Santa Claus Ron had made them write, after Hermione's mother sent her The Night Before Christmas. Ron had asked for a Chudley Canon's wizard photograph, preferably autographed, Harry had not let her see his, and she had asked for one of Mrs. Weasley's knitted sweaters, with an H on the front. Not of course, for the reason it seemed. She did not want Molly to make her a sweater. She wanted Harry to let her wear his. She smacked her head on the arm of her chair. Maybe if she thought of all the positive things about Ron, while simultaneously thinking all the bad things about Harry, she could make herself love Ron. She stared at the fire in an attempt to concentrate, the flames mesmerizing her, until she was in a sort of trance. The fire began to flicker out, and she lost her focus as the stony castle grew cold. Hermione shivered, yawned, and stood up. She stretched her arms above her head, and glanced at the clock in the corner, it was five am. The boys wouldn't be awake for another two hours or so. She quietly summoned a blanket from the dormitory and snuggled down on the couch again. As an afterthought, she relit the dying flames in the fireplace.

She pulled the blanket around herself, and continued to shiver. She wished she could stop being so awkward and be how she always had been with Harry. Until she started realizing how she felt, they'd been really touchy friends. It wasn't unusual for him to link arms with her in the halls, or wrap his arms around her when she was cold or upset. Nor was it unusual for her to sit with her head in his lap or on his shoulder. But now she was afraid to even hug him. Just as she opened her book again, Hermione heard footsteps.

"Hello Hermione" Ron said sleepily "Why are you up so early?"

"I could ask the same of you. I couldn't sleep. You?"

"I'm going to stake out the door to the Ravenclaw common room holding a sprig of mistletoe."

"Why ?"

"Because I want to be standing there holding mistletoe when Luna goes down to breakfast." He said, yawning.

"Oh, when did you start seeing Luna?"

"I haven't, hence the big act."

"Alright. Good luck then, and brush your teeth, or at least eat a breath mint."

Ron left the common room, leaving Hermione alone to dwell on this new development. She was upset, but only because it didn't bother her. Once again her inner child bubbled up, wondering if this was a sign from the cosmos she and Harry were meant to be. She scoffed at herself.

"What are you laughing at?" a soft and familiar voice said from behind the couch,

"Harry! When did you get in here?"

"A minute or two ago. Mind if I join you?" he motioned towards the blanket.

"Sure." Hermione replied brightly, then immediately began regretting that decision, as Harry slipped under the large afghan style blanket. He settled the settled the blanket around their legs, and crooked his arm over the back of the couch.

"So where's our boy Ron?"

"Waiting for Luna outside the Ravenclaw common room holding mistletoe."

"Really? I always thought he fancied you, at least a bit anyway. They'll make an interesting couple those two."

"You think she'll go for him then?"

"Definitely. She's fancied him since back in fourth year, she told me about it at one of Slughorn's parties last year. "

"Who would have thought those two would end up together? It actually makes quite a bit of sense. They'll balance each other emotionally, and they're both a bit on the odd side. Maybe it will chill out some of those rumors about Ron and I."

"Trust me; the school spends quite a bit of time speculating our love lives. Do you have any idea the number of first, second and third years who ask me when we're getting married? Lots, that's how many. Even some of our friends are convinced we're secretly dating, or that you and Ron are. "

"It wouldn't be any of their business if we were anyway. Bloody hell it's cold in here." She shivered.

"Here, take my sweater, I'm hogging the blanket anyway." Harry pulled the maroon and gold H sweater over his scruffy raven hair and proffered it to Hermione. "C'mon, take it." She grabbed it and pulled it over her head. It didn't fit of course, the shoulders drooped, and the sleeves covered her hands. It was warm from having been worn all night, and smelled like a wonderful combination of Harry's shampoo, the biscuits they'd served at dinner last night, and sweat. Hermione had never felt so comfortable. And she couldn't help but wonder, if one Christmas wish came true, could another come true as well? She shook the thought away, almost before she thought it. But somehow, it lingered. In that moment, Ron burst through the door, a ridiculous grin on his freckled face.

"I did it you guys! I kissed her! I kissed Luna! And she kissed me back!"

"That's great Ron!' Harry grinned at him, but there was a hint a melancholy behind the joy for his best mate.

"Good for you Ron!" Hermione beamed at him, glad to see him happy.

"Well, I just wanted to spread the cheers and wish you happy Christmas! I'll be downstairs in the great hall eating with Luna. Open up the presents without me this year, just not the ones from me."

"Good bye Ronald!" Harry waved him away goofily. "Have fun with Luna!" He turned to Hermione. "Shall we?" he asked, sweeping one hand towards their presents.

"Sure!"

Hermione and Harry settled themselves on the floor, and sorted theirs out of the hubbub of other presents. They set the ones from Ron off to the side.

"Open mine last." Harry said, trying hard not to smile.

"Alright, same goes for you then!" she said, smiling back.

The entire process of opening the other presents, ones from Hermione's parents, Mrs. Weasley, and members of the DA, took around forty five minutes. Then they were down to nothing but their presents to each other.

"You first." Hermione said to Harry.

"Alright then." He replied, preparing to tear off the meticulously wrapped paper. Hermione tried her hardest not to wriggle in anticipation. She'd thought long and hard about what to get Harry for Christmas, and felt she had finally found the perfect gift. Okay, so she knew she had found the perfect gift. She had been pacing the hallways a week or so back, when the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. Upon walking in, she noticed one thing among all the clutter. An old Gryffindor Quidditch robe, with the words "James Potter: Seeker" embroidered in maroon thread across the back. Harry's left hand, with the faint white scars standing out as he flexed his hand, peeled back the paper. The first thing he saw was the colors, and he looked confused until he saw the name. Once what it said had registered, his emerald eyes spilled with tears.

"I don't even know what to say. This is so… so… amazing and unexpected. Where did you even find this?" he choked out.

"The Room of Requirement. In with all the random lost items, where we found the diadem."

"Thank you. I…just…I…. thank you. Open yours now, even though it can't compare to this, at all."

Hermione stared at the present, wrapped more carefully than Harry's usually were, with a ribbon placed slightly off center. She picked up the small package, and carefully unwrapped it. She opened the small box within, and was taken aback once she had fully realized what it was. A medium sized gold locket was nestled in the box, with a photograph from the Quibbler from last year in it. Harry's faced was smeared with dirt, and he looked utterly exhausted. Hermione's hair was completely destroyed, and her body drooped with the effort of standing. But both were smiling and had eyes lit up with the glow of triumph after years of work. On the side of the locket not containing a picture were the words "To the one who belongs in all houses, courageous, intelligent, loyal and caustic. Much love.". She recognized it immediately. Harry had found it in the attic at Grimauld Place, Sirius had intended it to go to Harry in the will. It was the locket James had given Lily on their first anniversary.

"Harry…I…wow. I can't accept this. As wonderful and thoughtful as it is, it should go to the girl you want to marry, that's what your father and mother would have wanted." Harry simply looked at her, his eyes seemed to be trying to tell her something. In that moment it struck her. "Harry you don't really mean… I mean, I'm flattered and thrilled and amazed but it just doesn't make any sense…" she trailed off as she saw Harry's expression change.

"What do you mean it doesn't make any sense? You are the single solitary person who has always been there for me, even when Ron wasn't. You've never seen me as "The Boy Who Lived" or "The Famous Harry Potter". I was, I am, just your best friend Harry, who doesn't always do his homework. But to me, you were never just Hermione Granger. You were my stunning, intelligent, sarcastic, bossy, loudmouthed, snarky, friendly, protective, wonderful, far too good for someone like me, best friend Hermione Granger. Didn't you notice the way I bristled when any guy looked at you leeringly? The way my face contorted anytime Malfoy called you a name? I love you Hermione, I always have." Harry sat in silence, waiting for her to reply. Hermione was stunned to silence. Finally she managed to assimilate a few coherent thoughts.

"I just never thought it would be me. Everyone thought it would be Ginny, eventually. The next James and Lily. Ron says people thought you and I were dating, but that it wouldn't last. I think it could. And you're right, you were never "The Boy Who Lived" to me, but you were never just Harry either. You were my handsome, heroic, patient, and smart but lazy Harry. I just never thought you could be mine outside my head. I love you too, Harry." When she finished, Harry leaned in and kissed her softly, pulling his callused fingers through her bushy brown hair. The kiss was soft and sweet, and everything else a kiss should be.

"Maybe Santa Claus is real after all." Harry said softly, sitting with his forehead resting against Hermione's.

"What do you mean?"

"I got exactly what I asked for."

"And what was that?"

"You. Did you get what you wanted?"

"Yes. And more."

"What did you ask for?"

"A well worn, hand knitted sweater with an H on the front. I never dreamed I'd get the wizard that came with it."

With that, they kissed again, remaining intertwined for several hours, as snow fell softly outside the window. People, including Ron, came in and out of the common room, but paid little attention to the couple, other than to shake their heads or roll their eyes, as if to say "Finally". They finally pulled apart.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione Jean Granger." Harry whispered softly.

"Merry Christmas, Harry James Potter."


End file.
